


Worship

by Spoonzi



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Biting, Body Worship, Cuddling & Snuggling, Genderfluid Stiles Stilinski, I Stan Genderfluid Stiles So Hard, M/M, Music, POV Alternating, POV Third Person Plural, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is Noah, Smut, Stiles Stilinski Has A Tattoo, Tinnitus, holding hands during sex, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-05 10:40:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20487548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spoonzi/pseuds/Spoonzi
Summary: “Jackson wants to drop to his knees and worship the other teen right there.”





	Worship

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [They Say What I Cannot](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19294201) by [lhr111](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lhr111/pseuds/lhr111). 

> •All copyrights and songs not listed by name in the story will be in the end notes. 
> 
> •Yes I rewrote this several times because the fic this was inspired by was so good I had to feel like I did it justice at least a little. 
> 
> •All high schoolers portrayed in this fic are 18 with the exception of Lydia and Danny who are 19. (This is perfectly normal if you are born after the school year starts like Lydia)
> 
> •This was totally supposed to be mature but I was finishing the piece I was happy with at 4AM and it huskies to Explicit real quick.
> 
> •This is my first Teen Wolf fic so be gentle!

Stiles Stilinski is the prettiest person in school no matter if he feels like boy or a girl that day. Jackson has said this to Lydia so many times she’s only finds it slightly amusing now under her annoyance. She finds it both absolutely stupid and immensely entertaining that he can tell her all day about all the different golden flecks in his crushes eyes but as soon as Jackson tries to say one word to the Stilinski kid all he can get out are rude names, half insults, and jabs. 

Stiles is wearing ‘boy’ clothes today; just a simple white v-neck under his favorite green flannel that tucks into his burgundy skinnies in the front. His converse clad feet are kicked up on the corner of the large library table he’s sharing with Lydia, Lydia’s boyfriend Jordan, Jackson, Allison, and Scott. He’s squinting at the small print of the old tome he’s got open on his legs because he’s been trying to find out what the monster of the week is with almost zero luck thus far. 

The base of whatever song he’s listening to is loud enough that both werewolves and the resident hellhound can hear it but without focusing they can’t hear the words. As long as any of them, even Scott, have been friends with him some sort of music playing electronic and headphones have accompanied him everywhere. Tinnitus, he’d explained to them all once when Allison asked in sophomore year when she’d moved there. The car crash that had lead to the discovery of his mother’s brain deteriorating disease had given him a ‘hum in the drum’ so to speak. 

Allison had apologized to him for asking to which he just tilted his head and said ‘Why? It was a good question’. She had then followed it up with asking how he knew what they were saying when his music was so loud. This lead to the discovery that he either turned down his music if he couldn’t see them or read their lips if he could. 

Stiles groans pulling Lydia out of her train of thought as she looks over to him. His head is hanging back and he’s squeezing his eyes shut as if they hurt which they probably do. He’s got a lump in his cheek from the cherry blow-pop shelved in his mouth and his hand that he isn’t using to turn the pages of the over-large book is grasping the top of a Red-Bull can loosely. 

Jackson is looking at him like he hung the moon and painted all the stars into the fucking sky. It’s sickening and beautiful and hilarious because all Jackson can get out is. “What’s wrong, fuckface?”

Lydia and Allison hide their smiles and Scott drags his hand over his face in exasperation. Stiles eyes pop opened and slide over to the male next to him eyebrows raising like he heard what Jackson said. Maybe he had turned his music down enough to hear it because he responds in turn. “Look dick-for-brains, I get that it’s real tough waiting for me to figure this out so I can tell you how to punch the thing whatever way works to kill it, but there’s no need to resort to name calling.”

His tongue is sharper than his eyeliner on most days and the fact that he’s not wearing anything but cherry chapstick today is not a deterrent. He looks like he’s about to tear Jackson a new one with that silver tongue—something that Lydia will have to listen to Jackson both pout and awe over later— when Scott speaks up. “How’d you know he called you a name? Your music is still super loud, man.”

“Song change.” Stiles says dropping his feet on the ground and rocking forward as he snaps the giant book shut with an almost comical puff of dust. “Not that it matters because I actually did find out what this is and how you need to punch it for it to die.”

•JW•SS•JW•SS•

With the monster of the week taken care of almost with ease, the only injuries not healing being a few bruises that Stiles had obtained before being able to banish the netherworld demon, everyone is ready and rearing for this weeks lacrosse game. Since the genderfluid of the group had dropped out of the team for senior year, Allison and Lydia had roped him into helping hold up signs for Scott and Jackson- not that it was much of a chore. 

Not wanting to pick favorites between his long time best friend and his secret crush, he stands between the two girls about an entire foot taller than them in his chunky six inch ankle boots. The rest of his outfit is pretty masculine consisting of a black henley to match his boots and a pair of loose, ripped dark wash jeans that had been rolled up at the bottom to show his fishnet socks. Lydia called the jean thing the ‘bisexual roll’ when she saw him and looped her arm through his insulting his favorite red hoodie that he’d thrown on for warmth. 

Stiles and the girls cheer when things need to be cheered and boo when things need to be boo’d. Halfway through the game Jordan slides into the bleachers still in uniform and wraps his arm around his girlfriend’s waist while taking a glance at the scoreboard. He notes aloud that the two teams are tied and just like that Stiles’ eyes flick to the board and back to the team. Through the murmur and cheering of the crowd as the players get back in starting position, Jordan’s heightened hearing picks up on the brown eyed boy singing softly and Allison whispering to Scott like she always does. 

Stiles’ amber eyes bear down on the field and his voice is low and even. No normal person can hear it but if Jordan were to wager a guess Scott and Jackson can. “_Will you hold the line? When every one of them is giving up or giving in, tell me. In this house of mine? Nothing ever comes without a consequence or cost, tell me. Will the stars align? Will heaven step in? Will it save us from our sin? Will it? 'Cause this house of mine stands strong._” [1]

He only sings that first verse and Jordan thinks that he could maybe blame it on the fact that he only knows the first verse. The hellhound thinks the whole notion that Stiles would only know the first verse is impossible seeing as how his ears are always plugged with music and he's got an amazing memory. When the deputy sees Jackson and Scott bobbing and weaving around the other team like it’s the easiest thing in the world and throwing the ball back and forth, he thinks maybe Stiles only sang one verse on purpose. He can’t prove anything but he takes note of how Jackson looks up at the stands at their small group after he takes the winning shot and his blue eyes train on Stiles for just a few more seconds than he would the others. 

When Scott, Danny, and Jackson get off the field and away from the cheering and rallying of team members, they group up with the girls, Jordan, and Stiles near the entrance of the school. Allison drags her boyfriend into a kiss before wrinkling her nose and telling him he’s sweaty while Lydia and Jordan congratulate Danny and Jackson. The red head decides on pizza at the Mazzio’s on the door edge of town barely fifteen minutes away from the school. Everyone heartily agrees except Stiles who is looking down at his phone. He’s attaching a portable charger and scrolling through one of his four different music apps all at once meaning he obviously hasn’t heard a word they’ve said. 

Jackson has this determined look on his face like he’s trying so hard not to be an asshole. The rest of the group has no faith that he’s going to succeed. He’ll if Derek or the Sheriff were here then Jordan would put money on the beta saying something exceptionally rude. He’d win too because Jackson is snapping his fingers in front of Stiles’ face and speaking in that same strained awful tone of voice he always does to the other teen when Stiles looks up at him. “You coming for pizza, dipshit?”

Scott tilts his head back to look up at the sky like there is something there that could have made Jackson act like a normal person. Danny buries his face in his hands his shoulders shaking and the hellhound isn’t sure if he’s laughing or crying at his friend’s unfortunate brain to mouth glitch. 

“Considering I come every time? No, I figured I’d go home and eat left over rice and hamburger steak. Yes, I’m coming for pizza, you jackass.” Stiles rolls his eyes and the deputy thinks he’s hallucinating the tiny quirk of his lips when Jackson huffs and stomps away to the locker rooms. 

•JW•SS•JW•SS•

Danny has been friends with Jackson since the third grade and he’s also been acquaintances with the oddness that is Stiles Stilinski for just as long. He didn’t like to boast but his gaydar is pretty impeccable. He figured out that Jackson was at least bisexual long before his friend told him and Lydia about his crush on Stilinski at the end of sophomore year. He also knew that Stiles was nowhere near straight before he came out as bi and genderfluid the first day of freshman year, the boy couldn’t even sit right in elementary school come on. 

He feels like he’s the only one that recognizes that Stiles absolutely knows Jackson likes him. The little smile Stiles gets every single time after they’ve exchanged verbal blows and Jackson has turned away is proof enough as is. He doesn’t know why Stiles doesn't just put Jackson out of his misery and ask him out already; because let’s face it Jackson Whittemore is a goddamn train wreck when it comes to anything and everything Stiles Stilinski. 

Danny has been Jackson’s friend and confidant for so long that he’s not sure if keeping that info to himself would be considered betrayal. Sure he kept the fact that the women on his Dad's side of the family are all Seers a secret until Jax had told him about his wolfy little problem but this was different. He was pondering whether he should just lock them in a closet together for a few hours when Lydia and Deputy Parrish say down across from him. 

He looks up from his text book as the girl replaces his old chai tea with a new one and a muffin and raises a brow. “Thought you guys had pack meetings at lunch on Saturdays, it’s barely half past twelve.”

“Allison and Scott forgot it was their turn to bring lunch, everyone will be here in a few minutes.” Lydia answers glancing around the small cafe as she spears a forkful of her spinach and avocado salad. “You know don’t you? That Stiles knows Jackson likes him?”

“Yeah I was just thinking about it actually.” Danny says closing his textbook that he really hadn’t been paying attention to in favor of unwrapping the large muffin. 

“Lydia figured it out at the loft when Jackson freaked over Stiles outfit. I figured it out last night after the game. We decided you were the only one smart enough to realize.” Jordan says before taking a bite of his BLT and looking discreetly at his watch to make sure he doesn’t overstep his lunch hour. 

“What’s wrong with Stiles’ outfit?” The goalie questions after he swallows the bite of mixed berry muffin. 

“It’s a _super_ fem day.” The banshee waves off digging through her salad to find some of the grilled chicken. “Not important, what _is_ important is what are we gonna do to get them together?”

The deputy grunts putting down his sandwich. “Nothing. Stilinski must have a reason for not asking Whittemore himself. We just have to wait.”

“Wait for what?” Stiles asks taking a seat between Lydia and Danny and curling his high heel clad feet into his chair with him. A quick glance around and out the window provides he’s the only one who’s gotten there since the couple had sat down but Derek’s Camaro and Jackson’s Porsche are pulling up now. 

“Don’t worry about it.” Danny says taking in the plaid pleated skirt that comes up to just over where Stiles’ naval would be and the Grey cut off tank that stops around the middle of his ribs leaving a wide strip of pale skin on show. Stiles has on a wig today, too, it’s not as out there as some of the ones he owns though; just a short simple light brown wig with large ringlet curls. His makeup is pretty present today with sharp eyeliner and dark green eyeshadow to match his skirt and, if Danny had to guess, his favorite cherry chapstick. 

That’s all pretty normal for a super fem day for Stiles. What raises the goalie’s brows is that Jackson’s absolutely non-matching red letterman jacket is thrown around the spark’s shoulders. “So what’s with the jacket?”

“Jackson called me a prostitute and told me to cover up. So, I took his jacket; not that he needs it being all wolfy.” The brunet offers up with a shrug as he plucks one of his hot homemade chips from the basket plate in front of him and flicks it into his mouth. His eyes stray to the door as Derek and Jackson slide in with Allison and Scott close behind and he says. “So Danny, I heard your uncle is a tattoo artist. Obviously I’ll have to have someone go with me because of my needle thing, but I’m thinking about a piece on my thigh.”

His lips quirk slightly when Jackson freezes wide eyed and slightly flushed several paces away from the order counter and his amber eyes flick back to the goalie. “Could you give me his info?”

Danny thinks that if Jackson _could_ have a heart attack he would be having one right now. Like any good friend concerned for their best friend’s well being he 100% pulls out his phone to give Stiles his Uncle Kyle’s work number. He hopes to whatever deity is out there that he’s there when Jackson sees the tattoo for the first time. 

•JW•SS•JW•SS•

Scott being the forever best friend and obvious choice after Stiles came with him to get his tattoo, sits in the waiting area of the tattoo parlor with a giddy sense of excitement. Sure he’s thrilled for Stiles to be getting a tattoo, even if he can’t look at it while it’s being done else he’ll faint, but he’s more thrilled about the idea of Jackson’s reaction to the tattoo. Scott is absolutely sure that the other beta is going to have an aneurysm and he can just see it now. 

The design of course is oddly pretty to the point that even Noah Stilinski had approved, it was a thin, braided black cord all the way around the thigh. Along with the cord there are two feathers— one silver for his mom, one blue for his dad— hanging from wooden beads along with a significantly downsized wolf skull—for the pack. Stiles had been designing and redesigning the tattoo for nothing short of two months before finally asking Danny for his uncle’s info and almost a week later is the day he gets it put on his leg. 

Really, Scott doesn’t know why he’s here at all other than the fact that they had promised to be there for each other’s first tattoo. He just chats idly with Stiles while the other teen lays on the chair ankle in a stirrup and head pillowed on his crossed arms as the boy babbles on unflinchingly. Huge pain tolerance for a Human aside it’s still funny when he flinched at the aight of the tattoo gun after everything is done. Kyle tells him that he’s one of the best tat sitters he’s had in recent years and thanks him for the generous tip he’d been given before the two teens are out the door and into the car. 

“How short of shorts do you think I can swing at the pack meeting tomorrow?” Stiles questions leaning over to get a healing potion out of his glove compartment. He drinks the whole thing down making a face before chasing it with a sip of the mostly melted icee he’d left in the car when they went in. 

“Oh as short as possible, definitely.” Scott suggests as his friend peels the plastic off of his newly healed tat. The perks of having magic. 

•JW•SS•JW•SS•

Jackson Whittemore is a man of simple pleasures. Egyptian cotton sheets with a thread count higher than normal people’s bank accounts. Freshly crushed Aruban imported coffee beans. Expensive and pretty cars with heated seats. Hey, he said simple not cheap. 

Jackson Whittemore has never been religious. He’s never worshiped any sort of deity. After being bitten and facing all the monsters and demons and sick twisted fucks that come to Beacon Hills, he thinks if there is a god he doesn’t want to worship it. 

Stiles steps into Derek’s loft wearing the shortest fucking jean shorts known to man and a huge, baggy, red shirt that falls off his shoulder almost over his shorts and shows he’s wearing a black bralette. His tattoo is flush with black, silver, and blue against pale beauty marked skin and he wields a large tupperware of rice and a huge crockpot that smells like beef, gravy, and vegetables on his hip. 

Jackson wants to drop to his knees and worship the other teen right there. His mouth is dry and he thinks if he can get his tongue on that tat or even one mole it’ll never go dry again. All he can hear is the steady thump of the human’s heart and the music pumping into his ears. “_Now this looks like a job for me. So everybody just follow me. 'Cause we need a little controversy. 'Cause it feels so empty without me. I said, this looks like a job for me. So everybody just follow me. 'Cause we need a little controversy. __'Cause it feels so empty without me_.” [2]

“Jackson!” Lydia hisses into his ear and he blinks turning to look at the girl. Her hand is laced with her boyfriend’s and she’s leaning forward from the loveseat to get to his chair looking worried. “Where’d you go? I said your name three times!”

“Just, uh, lost my train of thought I guess.” The beta responds his eyes absentmindedly slipping towards the kitchen where Stiles has carried the crockpot to. 

“It wouldn’t have anything to do with Stiles’ new tattoo would it?” McCall questions brows raised and an amused look in his eyes. Jackson’s eyes flick to him at his place on the large sofa and the blond groans softly. He needs to get this handled. 

“You guys hungry? Scott? Lydia? Jackson?” Stiles asks as he leans out of the kitchens doorway. It’s a rare day when he’s got no makeup on except his favorite cherry chapstick which is currently shelved behind one ear like a pencil. 

“Of course we’re fucking hungry, spazlord, you were late.” Jackson says huffily and he really doesn’t mean to. He wants to smile at Stiles and tell him the food smells delicious and he can’t wait to eat it. He always panics though and he can never say what he wants to say around the spark. 

“Shut the hell up before I eat yours and you get nothing, Jackass.” Stiles wrinkles his nose and pokes his tongue out at him and Jackson thinks it’s the most adorable thing in the world. He _really_ needs to get this thing handled. 

•JW•SS•JW•SS•

Allison looks at her phone in something akin to confusion when it starts ringing. Her dad is downs stairs, Scott is at the end of her bed, and Lydia is on a date with Jordan so there should be no one left to call her. Dropping the book she’s reading onto her lap, she reaches over and grabs the phone hoping it’s not an emergency. She sighs in relief when she finds that it isn’t Derek or either Stilinski but she does answer Jackson’s call with confusion. “Hello?”

“_Allison? I need your help_.” His voice comes through the phone and he doesn’t sound panicked or hurt but she doesn’t drop her guard just yet considering Jackson usually goes to Lydia, Danny, or sometimes even Stiles for help. 

“Okay. Um, what’s the problem?” She questions sharing a look with Scott who is carefully holding a tiny nail polish brush in his large hands with and equally confused expression to how she feels. 

“_Stiles_.” Jackson groans like that’s all he needs to say and he’s partially right but he continues talking anyway in case she doesn’t get it. “_I try to talk to him and I panic and act like an asshole! I don’t know how to tell him..._”

She wants to quote Loki and say something like ‘You must be truly desperate to come to me for help’ because it’s absolutely hilarious to her that Jackson Whittemore has is calling her about boy problems at 4:30 on a Saturday afternoon after seeing her in person barely three hours ago. Instead, she just leans back into her pillows again making herself comfortable. “Wouldn’t you rather talk to Lydia or Danny about this?”

“_Lydia is on a date and both her and Danny are sick of hearing about my Stiles problems_.” The wolf huffs indignantly over the phone. “_They also never actually offer their help; they just tell me to talk to him like I haven’t been trying and failing at that for two years_.”

Scott snorts and goes back to painting her toenails baby blue for her as she hums quietly into the speaker of the phone. “So you want ideas other than talking to him? I’ve seen you guys have plenty of conversations where you don’t have your head up your ass so I’m sorry to say I don’t understand why you can’t.”

Jackson sighs heavily. “_It’s only when I’m trying to be nice or tell him how I feel... if I could just get it out maybe I’d be okay. I fucking can’t though! Every time I try it’s like my brain and my mouth can’t work together_!”

Allison hums again and closes her eyes to think for a minute. “You’re saying it’s hard for you to say what you want to say, right? Because it scares you that your going to be emotionally vulnerable and get hurt.”

The other end of the line is silent for so long that she almost asks if he’s still there before he speaks up. “_That’s not what I said..... but yes_.”

“Okay so make him a playlist.” Allison shrugs and Scott freezes looking up to her like she’s a god damn genius. “People have been telling each other they love them for years with music. Mix tapes. Burn off CDs. You name it. Make him a playlist that says what you can’t. He loves music.”

“_Has anyone ever told you that you’re a goddamn genius?_” Jackson asks and he’s shuffling around on the other end now. 

“It’s been known to happen. Though, increasingly less now that I’m friends with Stiles and Lydia.” The raven haired girl says waving her boyfriend back to his task which he continues to do happily and carefully dipping the brush back into the nail polish bottle. 

“_If this works remind me to buy you a new bow or a 500$ gift card to Jamba Juice_.” The other teen says before he hangs up line going dead. 

•JW•SS•JW•SS•

Stiles Stilinski is not in any way shape or form an idiot. Now that that’s out of the way, Stiles has known that Jackson likes him since fall of junior year. He also knows that Jackson isn’t being an ass on purpose and that’s what makes it so damn cute. If he wants to tack on another thing he knows it’s that if he were to ask Jackson out then it would make Jackson either feel stupid or reject him out of pure panic. 

So Stiles waits. He tells himself that if Jackson doesn’t ask him out before senior prom he’ll ask the wolf himself even if he thinks that Jackson needs to ask. He figures if the wolf hasn’t asked by then, obviously Stiles has to take the first step. 

He’s not by his phone when the texts come through. He’d plugged it in and started to listen to an old playlist of songs his mom used to like on his iPod while he washed the dishes and did this weeks laundry. When he’d gotten back to his room he’d had four texts from Jackson. 

The first was at 8:06. It was simply a Spotify link. One of those links that is an invite to a private playlist. 

The next two are both timestamped 8:07. 

**Jackson ^.^ :** Listen to this for me and don’t text me back until you’re done. 

**Jackson ^.^ :** When you’ve listened to all the songs look at the Playlist description, but not until you’ve listened to all of it. 

The last one is six minutes later at 8:13 and it’s sent as almost an after thought but it makes Stiles smile nonetheless. 

**Jackson ^.^ : **Please don’t think I’m gendering you... most songs are about girls. 

Stiles smiles at that last one and carefully shuts down his iPod before putting it into his bedside drawer with two others and an MP3 player. He plugs his headphones into his phone, because his Bluetooth headphones died at Derek’s earlier and he still hasn’t charged them, and clicks the link. The playlist is simply called ‘For Stiles’ and he intentionally keeps his eyes away from the description as he makes sure to click ‘Play’ instead of ‘Shuffle Play’ just in case they need to be listened to in order. 

As the first song starts he clicks on the song list so that he can scroll through it. It’s only ten songs long but he’s never seen Jackson make a playlist for anything in his life so he can’t really fault him. Jackson is more of a CDs or Radio kind of guy and that’s fine. 

_Riptide_ by Vance Joy (Stiles wonders if he should be offended that this song implies he doesn’t know the words to the songs he sings. He doesn’t care because he’s smiling too wide to.)

_Sweater Weather_ by The Neighborhood 

_Take Me To Church_ by Hozier 

_Can’t Feel My Face_ by The Weekend (He totally wonders if Jackson would have still put this song on here if he knew it was about cocaine. _Probably Not._)

_Sunflower_ by Post Malone

_One More Night_ by Maroon 5

_Worst In M_e by Unlike Pluto

_Do I Wanna Know?_ by Arctic Monkeys (If he had to choose a song most fitting for their situation, Stiles would choose this one. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t know what this playlist was for by the second song.)

_I Kissed a Girl_ by Katy Perry (He can tell this one is _only_ because of his taste in cherry chapstick.)

_Brown Eyed Girl_ by Van Morrison (This one makes him slightly damp eyed. He remembers his dad singing it low and off beat to his mom every Sunday morning while they made waffles and he wasn’t supposed to be awake yet but he woke up specifically to listen to it.)

Once the last song fades out and all he can hear is the ringing in his ears that never seems to go away, he starts the playlist over again. His eyes search out the description and there’s only one sentence. It’s a question. ‘**Stiles Stilinski, will you go out with me?**’

He doesn’t text Jackson back.

•JW•SS•JW•SS•

It’s been over an hour since Jackson sent the text and he’s spent nearly the whole time pacing. Holding his phone with both hands. Setting the phone down. Moving the phone farther away so he doesn’t have to see his empty notifications feed. Picking the phone up again, because even with his werewolf hearing what if he doesn’t hear it vibrate?

He hates himself. He’s acting like a girl. It’s dumb. He’s dumb. The whole situation is dumb. He wants to thrown his phone at the wall but he doesn’t want to have to go through the trouble of buying a new one and reprogramming it. He puts his phone down again and goes to pace at the other end of the room. If his adoptive parents were ever home maybe they’d ask him what’s wrong or maybe they’d just tell him his pacing is annoying. 

Jackson goes to pick up the phone again when someone knocks at the front door downstairs. The knocks are almost quiet for most people’s standards but the come to the tune of ‘shave and a haircut’. Danny, Allison, and Stiles are the only people he knows who knock to the tune so he jogs down the stairs in his low slung joggers not bothering to sling a shirt back on since its just his best friend. 

Swinging the door opened he’s hit with a familiar scent of Old Spice, cherries, and herbs as arms wrap around his neck and smooth legs tangle around his waist. He clutches under his attackers thighs and seats trying to keep them both from falling as he looks down into large brown eyes. Stiles is smiling widely up at him headphones twisted around his neck to where he’s shoved his phone haphazardly into the exposed strap of his bralette. His hair is a little wild from the gel being worked out of it throughout the day and it looks soft and wild half falling around his face. Stiles looks beautiful, because of course he does, because he always looks beautiful. 

They’re in the entrance way in front of the opened door where the cool fall air is leaking in causing goose flesh to race over the human’s skin. Jackson is wearing nothing but his underwear and a pair of black joggers and Stiles is in the same outfit that had his brain short circuiting earlier that day. They must look like quite a pair with the paler of the two wrapped around the wolf like a sloth smiling up at him like he is sunlight after a stormy day. “Took you long enough, Whittemore. I was afraid I was going to have to ask you myself. _Yes_, I’ll go out with you.”

It hits Jackson that Stiles knows. That the spark knew before he sent him that playlist. He shouldn’t be surprised and after a minute he really isn't. After all, Stiles is one of the smartest people he knows. 

His thumb dances along the skin just before the hem of the lither boy’s shorts and he drops his forehead to rest against the brunet’s. “It’s hard to talk to you. You’re so _pretty_ and unbelievably _smart_.”

“Imagine that.” Stiles says moving so their noses brush together and his blunt, manicured nails scratch over the hair at the base of Jackson’s neck. “Jackson Whittemore having trouble talking to someone pretty after dating Lydia Martin for three years.”

“Don’t tell her I said this, but I think you’re prettier.” The blond says in a lower voice as if it’s a secret and he hasn’t told Lydia how absolutely fucking stunning Stiles is a thousand times over. 

“Kiss me?” It’s so quiet he doesn’t think he’d hear it if not for his werewolf hearing. Hands tightening on Stiles’ thighs he pulls him up slightly higher to slide their lips together. It’s a little rough and a little sloppy and neither of them can wait to get a taste of each other. Stiles tastes like Cherry chapstick, honey, and energy drinks and if it weren’t so completely _him_ the mixture of those things might just be awful. It is him though and they are only able to separate for a few panting breaths before Stiles is twisting one of his hands in Jackson’s hair and yanking him back down again into another heated press and slide of their lips. 

Stiles’ fingers tug at his hair and his nails dig into Jackson’s neck giving just the slightest sting that he knows won’t last for long but is so, so sweet while it does. His hands move clutching at Stiles’ plush backside and pulling him up so that Jackson has to tilt his head back to keep his mouth on the spark’s. Somehow the door seems to close on its own an with the little golden glow behind Stiles’ eyelids he knows why and moves forward to press the brunet’s back against the door. 

Jackson is almost in a haze trapped in the taste of honey and cherries and the smell of herbs and spices. It’s like a heat dream he can’t and doesn’t want to escape from. Stiles is sucking Jackson’s tongue into his mouth like a cherry Blow-Pop and he tightens his grip taking handfuls of Stiles’ cheeks causing the fairer boy to groan around Jackson’s tongue and grind down against him. The human’s hard on pressed right up against Jackson’s abs and he knows his own dick is just as hard and if he’d had Stiles any lower he’d have thrusted right up against it. 

Stiles pulls back his breath coming in sharp gasps, his face and ears flushed, and his lips red and swollen. He doesn’t know how but one of the earbud has fallen out and the brunet’s Hair is more wild then before even though Jackson’s hands haven’t strayed from his thighs and ass since he had jumped into the older boy’s arms. Stiles bites his already abused bottom lip and reaches behind him to flick the lock on the door. “Take me to bed, Jacks?”

“With pleasure.” Jackson growls and he doesn’t know when his voice got so low. It’s hard to keep his mouth off of Stiles on the way up to his room and he has to stop more than once to steal greedy kisses from those pouty lips. When they finally get to his room and Stiles manages to kick the door shut behind them, the werewolf carefully drops his lover onto the bed making the brown eyed boy chuckle slightly. 

Stiles gestures to Jackson’s charging music station for iPhone as he unravels the cord of his headphones from around his neck and once he gets a nod of approval he kicks off his flats so that he can crawl across the bed and plug his phone into it and switch it on and to an alright volume. While he fiddled with something on his phone, Jackson pulls the lube from the other bedside table enjoying the view of his ass pushed up in the air the shorts barely covering his pale cheeks and pulling up to show black lace underneath. 

An instrumental is starting when Stiles turns back shifting up on his knees and immediately grabs him by the waistband of his joggers to drag him closer. Jackson nips at the brunet’s bottom lip and the paler boy groans one of his hands slipping down to cup his lover through his boxer briefs. The blue eyed teen pulls himself away so that he can get his hands under the baggy, red shirt keeping him from seeing more of Stiles and he pulls it up over the brunet’s head. Once freed, Stiles leans back so that he can undo and yank them off leaving him in that lacy black bralette and an equally lacy pair of panties that seem to be made for the male body. 

“_You let me violate you. You let me desecrate you. You let me penetrate you. __You let me complicate you_.” [3]

Jackson pushes his joggers off leaving him in his underwear as well and climbs onto the bed sliding between Stiles’ legs and laying him back against the plush nest of pillows at the top of the bed. Peppering open mouthed kisses over the amber eyed boy’s jawline, Jackson moves down to suck light marks all down his lover’s throat. He’s finally got Stilinski in his bed and he’s going to _worship_ him like the deity he is. 

He pauses at pale, prominent collarbones to bite down hard over where a mole rests on the curve of the left one and Stiles gasps arching up to push against Jackson’s teeth. The blond laves his tongue against the intentions he left behind with blunt, human teeth. He softly strokes up the younger teen’s chest and shoulders before sliding the straps of the bralette down so that he can push the article of clothing down to Stiles’ ribs. He spends a moment stroking his tongue and dragging his teeth over each nipple drawing whines and whimpers from his partner before moving on. 

Jackson nips and sucks and bites marks into pale skin from Stiles’ ribs all the way down to his hipbones. He drops chaste kisses over the length of the spark’s lace encased member enjoying the gasp and vicious lip biting that follows after. When he finally gets to the ink along the human’s thigh he knows he’ll revisit it at a later dat just to trace it with his tongue for hours and suck daisy chains of marks all around it like an offering at alter for his lover. For now he settles on getting just a few marks around it that he knows will be red and purple tomorrow before Stiles yanks him up by the hair and smashes their lips together all while pressing the previously discarded bottle of lube into Jackson’s hand. 

Jackson slicks up two fingers making sure the lube is at least a little warm before slipping his hand under the waistband of Stiles’ panties. Sue him, he doesn’t want to take them off yet. He massages the pads of his fingers against the brunet’s rim and his middle sinks in with ease making his thoughts fly to Stiles on his bed after the pack meeting fingering himself opened as he lets out the little whimpers and gasps he’s letting out now. He carefully slips his second finger in making sure he doesn’t hurt the boy under him even if the brunet is still a little loose from what he must have been doing earlier that day. 

Long fingers pull him up into another bruising kiss as he spreads his two fingers inside his partner. He’s got the third in by the time they’re pulling away and Stiles keens his head rolling back as Jackson brushes against that spot deep inside him. “Hurry up, Jacks.”

“_I want to fuck you like an animal. I want to feel you from the inside. I want to fuck you like an animal. My whole existence is flawed. __You get me closer to god_.” [3]

Stiles groans at the loss when the blue eyed teen withdrawals his fingers and takes the other boy’s underwear with him throwing it in some odd direction. Jackson kisses up the brunet’s body as he wiggles out of his own tight boxers and discards them as well. He pauses at Stiles’ lips and they share a few open mouthed kisses before he speaks up his voice low and absolutely _wrecked_. “Condom?”

Stiles shakes his head flush becoming a little deeper as he looks up at his partner. Worship, that is all Jackson ever wants to do again as he slicks up his cock, is worship every single aspect that is Stiles Stilinski. He moves knitting their fingers together with one of his hands and pressing their joined hands down onto the bed next to the paler male as he pushes into him. 

They both moan. Stiles’ low and long and Jackson’s quiet and broken. The blond curls a hand around his lover’s hip and he waits to move until the brunet is pulling him down into a series of messy kisses. Neither of them are going to last long and they both know it. After a few thrusts Stiles is already trembling underneath him and moving to curl a hand around his own dick. The older teen moans and presses a harsh biting kiss into the younger’s lips before pulling out and carefully pushing Stiles’ hand aside. 

He knows Stiles isn’t going to want to clean out tonight and he’s pressing their cocks together and sliding his hand around them. Slowly at first and then faster as he revels in the brown eyed boy’s quiet moans and high pitched needy whines. He wants to sing his praises for those sounds but he settles for leaning forward and swallowing them up again between his lips. Stiles shudders when he cums moaning out Jackson’s name and it drags the wolf’s orgasm out of him right after. 

Both of their climaxes are spattered across the paler boy’s stomach and chest and it takes everything Jackson has to move to Stiles’ side instead of slumping down on top of him. They lay beside each other hands still folded together between them as they catch their breaths. Though Jackson catches his breath first Stiles is the first to get his brain back online again and he shimmies out of his bralette using it to clean their spend from his skin and dropping it off the side of the bed before rolling into Jackson’s hold. 

They lay together spooning for maybe two more short songs before Jackson speaks in a blissed out raspy voice. “Remind me to get Allison a 500$ Jamba Juice gift card.”

_“I think we're alone now, there doesn't seem to be anyone around. I think we're alone now, the__ beating of our hearts is the only sound._” [4] 

“Do I even want to know?” Stiles huffs out an out of breath and broken laugh before he hums quietly to the song. 

“Let’s just say she’s a huge part of why I have you in my arms right now.” Jackson murmurs hooking his chin over the brunet’s shoulder and dragging him closer. 

**Author's Note:**

> [1] Natural (c) Imagine Dragons  
[2] Without Me (c) Eminem  
[3] Closer (c) Nine Inch Nails  
[4] I Think We’re Alone Now (c) Tiffany 
> 
> |1| Teen Wolf (c) Jeff Davis & MTV  
|2| Tinnitus Idea from Baby Driver (c) Edgar Write  
|3| Loki (c) Marvel Cinematic Universe
> 
> I made some simple edits which you can find [here](https://spoon-zi.tumblr.com/post/188332338327/so-i-made-some-simple-edits-for-my-stackson-one)


End file.
